


Too Hot to Get Sleep

by Penelopiad



Series: new neighbours [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, M/M, Neighbors, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Swimming Pools, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 10:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11146449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penelopiad/pseuds/Penelopiad
Summary: Fucking a guy once probably doesn’t give a man free access to his pool.





	Too Hot to Get Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** : A has a big lush pool and B overheard they were going out of town for the weekend, so B uses the pool but A comes home early
> 
> **Note** : Second part of the 'New Neighbours' series, but chronologically takes place before 'Never Seen Such a Good Thing'

 

 

Fucking a guy once probably doesn’t give a man free access to his pool.

That’s what Patrick’s thinking as he stands in front of Jonathan’s house, hands on his hips.

Dusk spreads over it, long shadows stretching into the street and the low sun limning the edge of the roof and chimney bright orange.

Jonathan’s not home, otherwise he’d ask, obviously. Even though they haven’t talked since Patrick brought him the casserole his mother made and ended up sucking his dick in the foyer… and then getting his own sucked on the daybed in Jonathan’s sunroom. 

It’s just so fucking hot today, Patrick’s been going stir crazy and his sprinkler won’t get fixed before Wednesday. He even started looking at having A/C put into his house. The same house that gives him a perfect view of Jonathan’s yard and morning naked yoga show. And his pool.

It’s possible Patrick stared at the shifting turquoise waters with longing in his heart long enough he lost it. A man can only resist a pool in the middle of a heatwave so long before he gives in. That’s his defence, anyway. 

He just wants to take a dip. 

Even with the sun going down, the air is thick. It clings to him like wet clothes, sucks sweat out of all his pores so it can feed and get even thicker and cling even more.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’ll make it quick, and he’ll confess to Jonathan tomorrow and actually ask permission.

No one can see him walk to the side of Jonathan’s house, but he still cringes at the loud creaking his gate makes when he opens it. He’ll fix that for him as he asks for forgiveness and perhaps a repeat of last time. Patrick doesn’t mind sucking Jonathan’s dick as many times as necessary. 

He’s never been in this yard before, has only seen it from the distance of his house. It’s a little weird to be the one looking up at his own dark windows. The fading light gives it all a creepy grey look that makes him turn his back on it, feeling like he’s being watched even though he knows no one’s there.

The yard is silent except for the soft whirring of the pool filter. He thinks of keeping his underwear on, but ends up taking it off as well. He’s practically been spending the last few days as naked as Jonathan seems to spend all of his, heatwave or no.

He doesn’t check the temperature of the water. It must be pretty high but it still feels like a cool shower when he puts his foot in. Like rain in the desert. 

He sighs, closes his eyes in relief, and dives in. If he could moan underwater, he would. He pushes off the bottom with his foot, comes out for a deep breath, and goes back under.

Patrick hasn’t skinny dipped in years. He’d forgotten how amazing the feeling of the water sliding over his whole body, including his junk, is. 

The lights aren’t on, so it’s dark underwater and almost fully dark in Jonathan’s backyard. He stops at the end of the pool, arms crossed on the edge, and stares into the dark trees. The only lights are from his house on the other side of the fence, and a couple streetlights up the hill. He breathes, mouth on his wrist where he can taste pool water. The night air smells like chlorine and dry sun-soaked grass.

“I’m pretty sure that’s called trespassing,” a voice says behind him from the dark. 

“Holy shit!” He startles, heart kicking hard in his chest, and turns around as the lights suddenly blind him.

He blinks hard, and for a moment he only sees the bright shifting blues and greens of the pool and the vague silhouette of a guy on the deck.

“Good evening, Patrick,” Jonathan says with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest.

“Fucker. You did that on purpose.”

“And you’re in my pool.”

That’s a fair point, and now that Patrick’s heart has calmed down from the shock, he feels shame creep inside him. He stays low, water line on his chin, like that’s gonna hide him somehow. 

He runs a hand over his hair. “I know. And I’m sorry, I just needed some kind of —”

“You’re naked.”

Apparently, they’re stating the obvious now. There’s nothing Patrick can say to really make this not what it clearly is. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

They don’t even know each other that well. Or at all, really. All Patrick knows about Jonathan is that he’s hot and built and an exhibitionist that does naked yoga in the morning and likes to skinny dip and has a dick that fits nicely in Patrick’s mouth. They might have done this new neighbors thing backwards.

“Mind if I join you?” Jonathan asks, and Patrick almost chokes on the water.

“It’s your pool, man.” 

Jonathan makes a show of undressing. Patrick’s seen him naked before, but not like this. Not from this close. 

He’s got the thickest thighs Patrick’s ever seen and the biggest ass too. It’s a wide curve below the dip of his lower back that Patrick desperately wants to follow with his hand.

Jonathan comes down the ladder until he has water to mid-thighs and stops long enough Patrick has time to look at his soft dick there. Has to remember how nice it felt when it was hard and how he’s been thinking about it a lot in the last few days. He watches Jonathan’s abs contract, the dips around his muscles deeper in the dark, with only the pool lights to highlight them.

Jonathan dives underwater and swims the length of the pool, coming up for air at the end and then doing the same on the way back. He does it again, like Patrick’s not even there, and Patrick has the fleeting thought of getting out, grabbing his clothes and making a run for it. Instead, he holds his breath and goes under, opens his eyes to watch the long line of Jonathan’s body swim past him, graceful and beautiful, thick and strong.

He comes back up when Jonathan stops in front of him, close enough they almost touch. Jonathan’s got drops of water clinging to his eyebrows and eyelashes and slipping down his cheekbones.

“You like it,” Patrick says, low and quiet, eyes running over the long line of Jonathan’s neck, settling on his mouth. “Being watched.”

It’s something he had guessed at already. He’d assumed that at least Jonathan didn’t _mind_ being seen. But it’s more than that, he realizes now. 

Jonathan says nothing, only glances Patrick’s side with his fingertips, making him shiver.

“Okay?” he whispers, and waits for Patrick’s ‘yeah’ before flattening his hand over Patrick’s ribs and tugging him closer.

Jonathan’s lips are soft and pliable under his, open easily when Patrick licks at them. Heat blooms in his core, makes him moan against Jonathan’s mouth. He runs a hand down his back to the great swell of his ass, grabs at his cheek with his fingers tight.

Jonathan gasps, says, “wanna fuck?” lips sliding over the curve of Patrick’s cheek.

And yeah, Patrick would very much like that. Jonathan smiles and pulls away, keeping his eyes on Patrick for as a swims backwards and climbs up the ladder.

Patrick watches him walk across the deck. Admires the muscles of his back and ass as water slide off them, and waits until Jonathan’s back inside before getting out of the pool.

It’s still incredibly warm outside, but the water, the excitement and arousal inside him, works to make him shiver a little. He barely has time to wonder if Jonathan wanted him to follow when he’s back, holding a bottle of lube and a condom.

“How do you want it?” he asks, holding them up. This man has no shame, and Patrick feels breathless with all these possibilities.

He grabs the lube. “Let me ride you.”

Jonathan’s smile is wide and boyish, lighting up his whole face. 

Patrick opens himself up with one hand behind him and the other on Jonathan’s shoulder as he lies back on one of his deck chairs. Jonathan’s hands are strong on his hips, and he leans forward, licks at Patrick’s dick and sucks lightly on the head.

“Okay. Okay I’m ready,” Patrick says, voice thin and breathless, dragging his fingers out of his hole and touching Jonathan’s hair lightly. He was just going to push him away to get where he wanted to go, but he can’t help curling his hand on the back of Jonathan’s head to hold him there. Can’t help but give a roll of his hips so he fucks into his mouth deeper.

Jonathan’s eyes flutter closed and he hollows his cheeks, takes Patrick’s cock easily just like last time in the sunroom.

He could come like this, fucking Jonathan’s mouth. He almost thinks about doing just that, maybe while Jonathan fingers him since he’s already stretched. It’s tempting and any other time he’d probably give into the idea, but not tonight. He really wants to feel Jonathan’s cock inside him, grind on it until he comes.

Reaching for Jonathan’s dick, he lines himself up and slowly sinks down, dick sliding out of Jonathan’s mouth as he does.

“Thought you were gonna let me suck you off,” Jonathan says with a small smile, leaning back against the chair, hands still holding Patrick’s hips.

“Almost did.” Patrick shifts his weight to take him deeper. “Wanted this more.”

The stretch is good. It’s been a while since he’s done this, and he’s missed it. Missed that feeling of fullness inside him. The drag of a dick across his prostate when he gets the angle right. 

He takes all of Jonathan inside him and sits there, full of his cock. Shifts his hips and grinds himself on it. His own cock is hard and thick, head dark and leaking at the tip, spurting fat beads that drip on Jonathan’s stomach.

“Shit,” Jonathan rasps between his teeth, eyes dark and fixed on Patrick’s dick, mouth parted and wet. He lets go of Patrick’s hips and raises his arms above him, holds on to the top of the lounger and flattens his feet on the deck, sending his dick that little bit deeper inside Patrick.

Even in the dark, with only the pool lights at his back, shielding Jonathan from them with his body, Patrick can see Jonathan’s tongue licking at the inside of his bottom lip. He goes for it. Slips his inside Jonathan’s mouth for a wet, messy kiss, holding himself with his hands tight on Jonathan’s forearms.

Like this, his cock is trapped between them, rubbing warm over Jonathan’s abs as he gives aborted little rolls of his hips. He stops kissing him, buries his face in Jonathan’s neck to close the gap between their chests and add friction and pressure. Goes at it harder, sends the lounger scratching over the deck with the force of it. 

Jonathan doesn’t complain, just wraps his arms around him. Slides a hand down his back, between his cheeks, until he’s touching the hot stretch of Patrick’s hole around his dick, pressing there.

“Ah, fuck!” Patrick’s voice cracks, muffled into Jonathan’s skin, and all he can hear is the sound of their breathing—Jonny’s gasped and wet where his mouth is. 

Jonathan licks at the shell of Patrick’s ear, pants, “been wanting this,” and it sounds almost more like he’s talking to himself than to Patrick.

It’s sticky-wet between them from how much Patrick’s leaking, and he knows that he’s close, tight heat coiling low between his legs and eyes wet with it, with how good it feels.

Jonny’s still pressing on his rim with his fingertips, helping Patrick’s short thrusts by pushing on his ass and fuck, he wants him in there, says, “put it in, come on. Put it—just, give me more, just slip—“

“Fuck,” Jonathan says, the _k_ sound cut short by a groan, but he does it. Presses harder with a finger, angling his hand until Patrick’s feels it, the fingertip sliding in along Jonathan’s dick.

The pain-pleasure of it sends him over the edge with a muffled shout. It’s almost too much, but he’s shooting hard between them. Hasn’t come like this in a long time, especially without a hand on his dick.

He’s stop moving, he realizes, and Jonathan’s just holding him tight around the chest, letting Patrick catch his breath. Normally, he wouldn’t mind getting fucked after coming, would just tell Jonathan to go at it, but he thinks about earlier in the pool, that small realization he had.

He pushes away and Jonathan lets him go easily. His face is flushed and sweaty and it’s obvious how hard he’s holding himself off. His stomach is filthy, slick with precome and jizz. Something about the way it looks on him, even in the low light, makes Patrick wants to see him covered in more of it, filthy and messy.

He stands up, hissing between his teeth as Jonathan’s dick slides out of him.

“Your turn,” he says, words wet and sticking to his throat. He crouches beside the lounger, leans his chin on Jonathan’s thigh and reaches out to take the condom off him. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan looks at him, confused line between his eyebrows. Patrick wipes his sweaty face on his thigh, looks pointedly at Jonathan’s cock, and, says, “Show me.”

Jonathan blinks and Patrick can tell when he catches on. Sees the full-body quiver that goes through him and the way his mouth parts on a quiet breath. He grabs his hard dick and gives it a tug.

“Yeah, let me see,” Patrick says, lips brushing Jonathan’s skin.

Jonathan gives a small snort, says, “You think you have me figured out.”

“Just testing out a theory,” Patrick says, smiling at him, and Jonathan’s other hand is on him, grabbing at his hair. That’s good too, being touched. Patrick’s knees are spread wide over the hard deck, and he can feel the night air on his hole, still hot and loose.

It doesn’t take Jonathan long, and Patrick makes sure he can see him watching. It’s not exactly a real hardship; Jonathan’s body is amazing and his dick is pretty, and given enough time Patrick could get hard again just watching the way Jonathan jerks himself. Rough and steady and a little bit desperate in a way that makes Patrick think he was probably holding himself off from coming earlier. That he waited for Patrick to come first.

He was also right about the filthiness. Jonathan _is_ really hot covered in jizz—Patrick’s and his own. He comes hard, back arching and hand clenching in Patrick’s hair, spurting over his stomach and pecs.

“This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came here tonight,” Patrick says into the silence that follows Jonathan catching his breath. “Thought you’d be furious.”

Jonathan pets his head with a heavy hand. “It’s a heatwave,” he says. “I was trying to find a way to let you know you could use the pool, but I—” He licks his lips. 

“What?”

“After last time,” he says, runs a hand down his face, then his chest, fingers idly playing in the come there. “I was worried you’d take that as an invitation for more and that it’d be weird, you know, in case you were not…“

“Well, clearly.” 

“Yeah.”

Patrick wants to ask how could Jonathan think for one moment Patrick wasn’t interested in more, when he basically went to his knees the moment Jonathan opened the door that first time. But he stops himself. Doesn’t want to seem too eager or hungry for it. 

“I’m still sorry,” he says, instead. 

“Mow my lawn tomorrow and we’ll be even,” Jonathan says. His fingertips push on the back of Patrick’s neck and Patrick moans, presses his forehead against Jonathan’s thigh.

“Fine.”

“With your shirt off.”

“Deal.”

He doesn’t mind if Jonathan does a bit of watching of his own.

 

 


End file.
